The Raven and the WritingDesk
by Veritalias
Summary: HP/AiW xover Those who come to the Underland rarely leave unscathed. Alice escaped with a newfound sense of self, but others are not nearly so fortunate. Alice/Hatter.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland.

Author's note: I should be working on my other fic, I know, but I saw the movie and I just couldn't resist! Hopefully this is at least a little bit original. I'll be totally devastated if it turns out someone's already written something like this while I was busy with other stuff.

* * *

"There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness." –Friedrich Nietzsche (1844 - 1900)

* * *

Prologue: In this World and the Next

-

Alice had stood here, on this very balcony, with her hands on this white marble. They'd looked out on a war-ravaged Underland together. The stars had glittered above them like so many shattered diamonds.

He presses his hands where he remembers hers had been. Even if the warmth of her skin has long since dissipated, he imagines he can feel the ghostly echo of her hands under his. It is make-believe, and unhealthy– but Alice was the one who told him that it was alright to be insane. He believes her, he believes in her, and he stares out over the brilliant landscape towards the setting sun.

"You have stayed long past your time," the White Queen says gently.

He has not heard her approach. Mirana of Marmoreal's elegance and kindness are equally matched by her strength in both mind and body. Her kingdom was stolen from her by treachery, not in battle; in battle, she is unmatched.

Tarrant Hightopp is Mad, is a Hatter, is the Mad Hatter. But he wasn't always mad, wasn't always a hatter. And once upon a time, he was not the Mad Hatter. Only a lost traveller.

He says nothing, but stares out over the landscape. His eyes ache from the over-bright colors, but he can't look away.

"It is very rare that one of my cousin's subjects should be sent to me," the Queen continues over the Hatter's silence. "I fear that in my curiosity, I have allowed you to linger too long."

He wants to say something kind. To thank her for her time. But the words get caught in his throat, behind the burning of his eyes.

"Are you going to send me back?" he rasps out.

It's been days since he last talked. Since Alice left him, whirled away in a flood of colorless smoke and Jabberwocky blood. Since he did anything but stare off into the distance, searching for her image.

"You have been a good and loyal subject to me," Mirana says softly. "You stood by me in my darkest times, you furthered my cause when it would have served you better to defect, and you fought beside me in battle."

She sighs heavily. "I fear that you have lost much from our association, while I have gained much. And, as much as it pains me, I must concede that the only recourse I have now is to return you to your true world."

Tarrant flinches. His hands come away from the white marble, and he takes a step backwards. "But– Your Majesty– Alice–"

The White Queen presses a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Trust in your lady, Hatter. You will see her again."

There is so much more that Tarrant hasn't said, should have said, and time has run out. He feels the magic unraveling around him– the same magic that brought him here, so many years before. The last thing he sees are the White Queen's dark eyes smiling at him as he fades away.

* * *

In one world, Tarrant Hightopp, Mad Hatter, closes his eyes.

In the next world over, Percy Weasley awakes.

* * *

End note: Reviews might not actually make the world go round, but they do make an unpaid writer more likely to update faster... Nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more.


	2. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer_: Harry Potter and Alice in Wonderland still don't belong to me... unfortunately.

_Author's note_: I think it's funny how fanfic writers generally portray the Wizarding World as terribly behind the times when compared with the Muggle world. So I've basically reversed that. This is a REGENCY fic, which means that it's set in the late 1800s. So everything in the Harry Potter world happened as it did in the books (minus the bits with the technology, of course), only about a hundred and twenty or so years earlier.

* * *

-

Chapter One: The Homecoming

-

* * *

-

Arthur Weasley has had fifteen years to mourn his son. Fifteen years to go over every interaction, every conversation. To pick apart the fabric of their relationship, to pinpoint the exact moment it all began to fall apart.

Fifteen years to think of a way to set things right.

It's going to be different this time, he promises himself as he rushes through the halls of St Mungo's Hospital toward the private room where Percy has been housed as healers try to figure out his miraculous recovery. The portraits call encouragement and questions after him, but he ignores them.

It's going to be different this time. He's learned from his mistakes. He's hoped and prayed for this moment– for this second chance. He's not going to waste it now that he has it.

Arthur bursts into Percy's little room, startling the medi-witch. "Percy– son–"

Percy looks up. He hasn't aged a day since he fell into the strange coma during the Final Battle at Hogwarts fifteen years ago, and Arthur can hardly believe his eyes. "Percy–" he gasps out again, and lunges forward to hug his wayward son fiercely.

He pulls back after a long moment, after he realizes that Percy has not responded to his embrace. Has only sat in the circle of his arms stiffly. Arthur draws away, hurt and puzzles. Then he catches sight of Percy's face and everything changes.

He's seen Percy's face in the photograph that sits on the mantelpiece. He's seen it every day for the last thirteen years.

It is the same face that looks back at him– the same shape, the same freckles, the same red hair. But the eyes have changed.

"Percy," Arthur says, and his voice wobbles precariously. "Your eyes... why... how..."

Percy only blinks eery yellow-gold eyes and tilts his head to one side. "Is there a problem, Father?"

"You–" Arthur has to swallow painfully. He reaches out a shaking hand to cup Percy's face, to remind himself that this is really happening.

Percy's skin is warm under his palm. Percy blinks large yellow eyes at Arthur, and does not make any move to either accept or reject Arthur's touch.

This is real, Arthur reminds himself. This is real, Percy is alive and awake, and they are a family again. It is everything he has ever wanted at his fingertips.

It is a hollow victory, and he doesn't even know why.

-

* * *

-

They knew Percy would come back. He had to, because he was family, and that was why they had left his arm on the family clock even though it hadn't moved from 'Mortal Peril' for fifteen years.

Molly is the first to notice when the hand moves, and she startles everyone by shrieking and fainting. She's not as young as she used to be, after all, and the shock is too much.

When she wakes, Arthur stays long enough to figure out what startled her. She has only to point to the Clock, where the hand that bears Percy's name has moved to "Hospital." And Arthur is off in a flash of green and Floo Powder, leaving Molly to straighten the house compulsively in a futile attempt to sooth her nerves.

"I saw him," is all Arthur will say, when he returns. "He's changed, Molly, and I don't know why."

"Nonsense," Molly beams. Her baby is going to return to her! "He's still our Percy, and that's all that matters."

Arthur concedes the point, but his eyes remain shadowed and worried.

Molly is sure that it's all just nerves. After all, before the Battle and the Curse that had left Percy comatose, the two had not been on the best of terms. Everything will straighten itself out as soon as Percy returns home. Percy will go back to work at the Ministry with Arthur, and everything will return to normal.

That particular fantasy only lasts until she mentions it out loud.

"My old position?" Percy asks curiously. He tilts his head to one side, cat-like, and the his eyes glitter in the light of the warm kitchen. A plate of hardy home-cooked food sits in front of him, half-eaten.

He has been home half a day, and he has not done much except for watch Molly go about her daily routine with those eerie amber eyes that are so different from the ones she remembers giving birth to.

"That's right," Molly smiles happily at her wayward son. "Won't it be just wonderful?"

"I'll ask the Minster– you remember Mister Kingsley Shacklebolt, don't you?" Arthur leans forward, a beaming smile on his face. "Well, I'm sure he'll let us work together– or maybe you could even have your old position back. Undersecretary, remember? It will be just like old times..."

And it will. Molly is sure of it. They'll finally regain that closeness they had, before Percy took off on his own path. They'll be a family again.

But Percy is not smiling. "Oh," he says, cocking his head to one side. "I think not. I think I'd rather be a Hatter than anything else, you see."

"We..." Arthur trails off, replays his son's words in his mind, and frowns.

"A hatter?" Molly is disapproving. Prefect, Head Boy, top OWL and NEWT scores, and her brilliant little boy wants to waste his life away on frivolities? "Percy, what in Merlin's name–"

"Tell me, mother," and Molly is so happy to hear that word from Percy's lips that she would have told Percy anything for the chance to hear it again, "what is Madam Malkin doing these days?"

"Madam Malkin?" Arthur stares at Percy, frowning. "Percy, son, you... why do you want to know about Madam Malkin?"

Percy gives Arthur a small smile. It is eerie and unearthly, and for a moment the lights strike Percy's eyes so that they shine like newly-minted gold.

Arthur is so shaken that he forgets to answer.

It is Molly who steps in. "Madam Malkin..." she wets her lips with her tongue. Percy's wide yellow eyes remained trained on her face, unmoving. "She retired a few years back. Miss Brown runs her robes shop now."

"Ah." Percy considers it, and his smile widens. "Wonderful."

Molly has spent fifteen years waiting for this moment– and now that it has come, she wishes that it hadn't.

-

* * *

-

There are still days when the only reason George smiles, is because the only other option for him is to break down in tears. There are days when he feels Fred's absence like a missing tooth, or arm. Sometimes he stops in the middle of a sentence, waiting for someone to finish it for him.

No-one ever does.

But Fred would have hated to see him cry, so George smiles and laughs and eventually it only hurts every other day or so.

He pressed his hand to the door, about to push it open, when it is yanked abruptly away from the inside. His mother is there, grey-streaked red hair frazzled and flying in every which direction. "Georgie!" She beams, and pulls him into a warm hug.

There is something edging on desperation in her bearing.

George squeezes her back, and steps away reluctantly. "Is Percy here?" He asks, craning his head to see around his mother's bulk into the house. "I heard–"

"Oh, Percy, yes, well–"

George doesn't remember the last time he's seen his mother so flustered– it had to have been during the war– so he grabs her hands between his own. "Is everything all right?" he asks seriously.

Molly Weasley bites her lip. "Yes, well–" she says again, and hesitates. Then, slower: "You'll see for yourself, dear."

Ominous. George nods jerkily, and steps inside.

He thinks he's prepared for anything. He thinks the worst that could happen, is the return of that uppity, arrogant Percy who rejected his family and spurned his name. He thinks that they can just beat some sense into Percy, and be one big happy family again.

He's dead wrong.

And he knows he's wrong, too, when his own brown eyes meet eerie yellow.

George recognizes in Percy the madness-in-grief that he so barely escaped himself. For a time, after Fred's death, he was in danger of losing all hope, of falling so far there was no hope of retrieval. He escaped it, and kept away from it now because he had a wife and family and a job he loved.

The black edge of madness glittered like starshine in Percy's eyes.

-

* * *

-

"Oh, Percy, when are you going to cut your hair?" Molly Weasley's hands flutter around his shoulders, almost-but-not-quite touching the flyaway red hair that is beginning to curl around his ears. "It is getting dreadfully long, you know."

"Is that so?" Percy tilts his head to one side and considers. "I thought it to be quite dashing myself."

"I'll just get my scissors," Molly says decisively, wiping her hands on her apron and half-turning. "Just stay put, sweetie, and–"

"No."

Molly freezes. This is the harshest she's ever heard from her son. She turns back slowly, almost dreading what she will see.

Percy's eyes are like chips of amber ice. "No," he said again, and he smiles slightly at her. "I'd rather grow my hair out."

"But–" Molly flails mentally for some kind of explanation that will make sense to her unstable son. "But it's so unbecoming–"

"I will not cut my hair," Percy said with an air of finality, and turns back to the book of robe patterns he had been perusing.

-

* * *

-

"It was the curse, of course."

Harry Potter speaks with authority. He is fifteen years older than the gawky lad who stood triumphant over the remains of the Darkest Lord in recent wizarding history. Fifteen years of experience have hardened his mouth, straightened his limbs, and eraced the last traces of softness from his soul.

His wife, Ginny, clings to his side. "I hope so," she murmurs quietly.

He glances fondly down at her and pats her hand gently. They are surrounded by Muggles and can do nothing else. "We could neither identify the curse, nor the caster," he says quietly. "And any curse powerful enough to put him in a coma, ageless, for fifteen years, is certainly powerful enough to change his personality."

Ginny hums under her breath. Harry knows that that particular glint in her eyes means that she is longing to curse someone.

The band peters off. The Muggles finish their strange, stilted dance, and bow to each other courteously. Harry has only been at the soiree for two hours, and already he can feel himself growing impatient.

Muggle society is terribly backwards when compared to the freedom enjoyed by wizards and witches around the world. Their women, kept under lock and key, unable to find a decent living– the men, so tied to their money and estates that they have become weak and foppish. Their society is stunted, backwards, and Harry has come to dislike it.

But he is a Lord twice over, through Potter and Black, and if he does not put in a certain amount of appearances, there will be rumors and falling-out.

"Ah! Lord Potter, just the man I wanted to see," a snobbish voice announces.

Harry knows from the way Ginny's fingers tighten on his arm that she is annoyed by the way the foppish little man has dismissed her so easily.

"Young Hamish," Harry nods to the younger man courteously. Then he smiles at the lady by Hamish Ascot's side. "And Miss Alexandra Fletchley, I suppose?"

Alexandra Fletchley is not terribly handsome. Her nose and mouth bear a significant relation to those of her Uncle Justin's. Her eyes widen and she sinks into a low curtsey. "Lord Potter," she murmurs. "Lady Potter. It is an honor to meet you both."

"Likewise," Ginny mutters.

"I suppose I am to congratulate you on the engagement?" Harry inquires.

Alexandra flushes and looks down at her feet. Hamish Ascot merely smiles a foolish little grin. "We shall be married in summer," he announces. "A year hence. You are, of course, invited."

"Of course," Harry nods politely. "We shall be sure to attend."

Alexandra doesn't look up as Hamish leads her away.

Ginny mutters something that sounds like, "What a disgusting little mouse! Did you see the way she just let him take charge of her?"

"She's a Muggle, dear," Harry tries to soothe her. "They'll catch up eventually, you'll see."

"Hopeless optimist," Ginny chides him, but her brown eyes are warm with mirth.

"Silly pessimist," Harry whispers back, and wishes that there were not so many Muggles around so he could kiss her in public.

The band starts up a waltz. Harry and Ginny watch from the sidelines as the Muggle couples take to the dance floor.

"You realize, of course, that Justin will have my head if I don't go," Harry says conspiratorially.

"We wouldn't ever hear the end of it," Ginny moans. "And he'd get Susan to help badger us about it, you know he would."

"Well, we have a year to prepare for it," Harry says. "Not to mention that there's always the hope that it won't be a terribly boring ceremony."

They share a glance. "Not a chance," Ginny grins at him.

"Ah," Harry touches her lower lip with one gloved index finger. "There's that smile."

It's worth it to see her blush.

Both the smile and the redness fade after a moment, and Harry is sad to see them gone. Ginny's eyes grow sad as she watches the couples on the floor. "Percy," she says.

"Percy," Harry sighs. "I don't know what to say, love. He's changed, and from what I've seen there's not a chance he'll change back."

"I thought so," Ginny sighs. "It's funny, you know? I don't really mind the change. He's not nearly so stuck up anymore. I just wish it hadn't made Mum and Dad so unhappy." She is silent for a while. "He's happier now. Even if he's working in a robes shop and making silly hats. He's happier than he was back then."

"I know," Harry says, and wraps a supportive arm around her waist. "Here's a thought: why don't we go visit him at the shop tomorrow? Have him make you a ridiculous hat. I'll even tell you that you look gorgeous in it."

"It's a plan," Ginny leans against him. "How long until we can go?"

Harry shrugs. "Just find us a convenient place and I'll Side-Along us out."

"Brilliant." Ginny drags him off without another word.

There will be hell to pay, Harry knows, because he has left without saying the customary round of farewells to everyone of import. They will probably feel slighted.

It's worth it to see his wife look so cheerful.

-

* * *

_End note:_ In case you missed it, I stated in the Author's Note at the beginning that this is set in the late 1800s. Everything in the HP books happened the same way, just a hundred or so years earlier.

Also, guess who is finally going to make an appearance in the next chapter! That's right-- get ready for the romance!


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: If Alice and Wonderland belonged to me, Alice would have stayed in the Underland. Unfortunately for all of us, it's not mine... I don't own Harry Potter either.

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Author's note: And now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you've all been waiting for.

This chapter is dedicated to my lovely reviewers. You guys rock. Thank you for being so patient with me.

* * *

Chapter Two

* * *

Spring rain has soaked the trees on either side of the long green park. Pitiful shoots of green are only just beginning to thrust their way up through the dark, wet dirt. The grass of the park is almost criminally green– Percy can feel the magic under his feet, soaking up through his boots.

"You understand, don't you, Percy?" Penelope begs prettily, looking up at him though her long lashes.

"Penny– Madam Finch-Fletchley–" Percy corrects himself, bowing slightly to her, "Please accept my assurances that I bear no ill-will against you."

"But do you understand?" Penelope repeats. "I couldn't just wait for you! It was three years since you were cursed, after all, and I wasn't getting any younger waiting for you. In fact, the healers said it would be a miracle if you woke at all."

"Penny," Percy says firmly, stopping in his tracks so he can look her in the eye. "I understand. I don't blame you at all."

Penny was his first girlfriend, his first love. His fist kiss, his first fiancee. She was his first everything, and he would always care for her. But she is no Alice.

Alice. Just the thought of her name makes his heart ache.

"There, now," he says gently, patting her hand as she brushes at her eyes with trembling fingers. "There's no need to cry, my dear."

Penny's husband Justin is standing a few feet away, watching them closely. There is no need for such scrutiny– they are all wizards and witches, after all, and they are more civilized than that– but propriety demands a chaperone, and they are surrounded by Muggles.

Percy begins to lead her back to her husband, but Penny drags her heels. "My niece, Alexandra," she says, apropos of nothing.

"Is a lovely young lady, I'm sure," Percy nods. "Would you like me to make her a hat for her wedding?"

"No thank you," Penny smiles wanly. "No, Percy, I'd like you to come to the wedding. Please. It would mean a lot to me if you did."

Percy is about to say no. There are better things to do, after all, than sit through a dry, boring ceremony with a bunch of sweating Muggles– but something else seizes control of his lips and says "Of course I'll come," with his voice.

This is not the wizarding-magic that keeps Penny's blue-silk gown dry, and makes the grass so green. This is a flash of something white-hot like destiny, and Percy has spent fifteen years in the Underland. He knows true magic when he feels it.

* * *

Percy can tell from the look on his sister's face that she finds the Muggle finery she is wearing to be horribly restrictive. In truth, the golden silk dress looks stunning on her, offsetting her long red hair (pinned up in the latest Muggle style) and pale skin. But Ginny would rather be wearing robes, and her smile looks very forced.

Percy doesn't mind. This is much like what he used to wear as part of the White Queen's court, minus his hat of course. So he smiles and shakes people's hands and pretends he doesn't see them staring at him.

He looks odd, of course. His hair is too long, too wild, and too unruly to be fashionable; his hands are callused and completely different from the plump white hands of the aristocrats around him. And his eyes, he knows, are different as well.

Penelope and Justin introduce him to the groom and his bride, who regard Percy with the same sort of horrified fascination one would apply to a dead thing on the side of the road.

Lord Hamish Ascot is all-too-happy to look away, and his eyes light up with relief as he sees a familiar form. Percy turns to see what has caught the groom's attention–

Everything goes completely silent. Everything in the world turns grey and dim except for the woman in front of him, who is approaching him with something like hope in her eyes.

"My father's business partner," Hamish Ascot introduces with some distaste at the title. "Miss Alice Kingsleigh. Alice, this is Percy Weasley, an acquaintance of my fiancee's aunt."

"We have met before," Percy does his best to smile. It's expected of him, after all. But there is still some small screaming part of him that fears the blank gaze, the questions that will follow– she did not remember him the last time, after all. "Though I do not know if Miss Kingsleigh would recall."

He holds his breath for her answer. His hands clench into fists at his sides. He does not know how he will bear it if Alice has forgotten him– forgotten them– again.

And Alice– Alice smiles, a great beaming grin that transforms her face entirely. Percy's heart stops, and starts again to a completely different rhythm. "My dear Hatter," she says brightly, "I would know you anywhere."

Hamish and Penelope are wearing matching expressions of shocked displeasure, but Percy and Alice have eyes only for each other.

* * *

"You came for me," Alice says to Percy, and her tone is so raw with hope that Penelope feels her face flush in embarrassment. "You came..."

"How could I not?" Percy smiles down at her. "You are my light, my savior." His golden eyes are practically glowing with happiness. "My Alice."

He says her name like it's a prayer.

They are standing in a half-shadowed alcove, away from the main crowds, and there is barely a handswidth of space between them. Penelope feels oddly reluctant to interrupt them, for all that it is a clear breach of social protocol.

But they must understand that people are watching– that what they are doing is terribly inappropriate– and in such a public venue, too!

"Percy," she calls softly, drawing closer.

Had Percy sprung away from Alice guiltily, as he should have, and denied that he was doing anything inappropriate, Penelope would have felt justified in interrupting.

But Percy just turned to face her, his golden eyes wide with unexpected joy. "Penny," he says cheerfully. "I do believe you know Alice."

"Yes," Penelope nods, "but I do not know how you know her."

"We met for the first time thirteen years ago." Percy beams. Alice seems content to let Percy to the talking.

"But– Percy– that is quite impossible," Penelope Flinch-Fletchley protests loudly, and covers her mouth with a delicate hand when heads turn to stare at her outburst.

"And how is it impossible, pray tell?" Percy asks politely, as he and Alice trade an amused glance.

"Miss Kingsleigh– I don't mean to insult you–" Penny backtracks, swallowing whatever cutting words were aimed at Percy, "But Percy was in a coma for fifteen years. He only recovered about a year ago. For you to have met him thirteen years ago would be quite impossible."

"But Percy can't be a day over twenty-three," Alice's grin is teasing, and the glint in her eyes tells Percy that she knows what she's saying is a lie. "For him to have been in a coma for fifteen years... why, he would have been only eight years old when it happened!"

"I was an exceedingly clever eight-year-old, my dear," Percy smiles back.

Penelope backs away, hesitant and unsure. Percy and Alice are smiling at each other like the rest of the world doesn't exist, and there's something terribly all-consuming and frightening about their gazes that she doesn't know how to deal with.

She backs away, then turns and flees as grcefully as she can. Ginny Potter is watching her with narrowed eyes, and the redhead approaches her a few moments later with a glass of champagne.

"Ginevra, darling–" Penny says with some trepidation.

"I see it," the beautiful redhead nods.

"Is he– do they–" Penelope swallows, straightens her tangled thoughts, and tries again. "Do you know when they met? Have you ever met her before?"

"No," Ginny's eyes are narrowed dangerously. "But I'll find out what's going on with them– that's a promise."

* * *

She corners them on a balcony three hours later.

Harry is watching her with some bemusement from the ballroom. He is with a group of like-minded gentlemen, so he does not lack for intellectual conversation, but he is wondering at her sudden insistence that they stay. Ginny doesn't know what to tell him, but she waits for Percy and Alice to finally tire of dancing with each other and retire to a secluded place to pounce.

"Percy," Ginny hisses furiously without any sort of preamble, "how could you? What am I supposed to tell Mum?"

Percy raises an eyebrow. Alice, who is holding onto his arm, covers her mouth politely. It is one of those terribly restricted Muggle gestures of politeness that Ginny hates.

"And don't you think you're being a bit hasty?" Ginny continues, her voice clipped and angry.

Percy feels the mirth welling within him. His sister's anger should hurt, he knows, it should burn at him, eating at him with guilt and regret. It doesn't.

Alice is by his side. His Alice, unchanged but for the sparkle of life in her eyes and the added length to her golden hair. With Alice, he can do anything. He knows this for a fact.

"How am I being hasty?" he asks. "I have known her for over fifteen years, after all."

Ginny takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I'm not even going to ask you about that," she says in a strangled voice, "because you're worse than Luna when it comes to giving direct answers. But didn't you even consider the consequences of courting a Muggle? What will Mum and Dad think?"

"Muggle?" Alice wrinkles her nose in distaste. "What a dreadful name to call someone."

Ginny freezes in consternation. She closes her eyes as if in pain and presses the back of her hand to her forehead. "She doesn't know? You haven't told her?"

"I had assumed it was still against the law, dear sister." His yellow eyes are glittering with unvoiced laughter.

Ginny sputters. "I didn't mean to– I'm sure it will–" She finally settles on, "If you're serious about courting her, an exception can be made, you know."

"Well," Percy smiles at Alice. "In that case–"

Ginny does her best to tune out the basic explanation. She focuses instead on the hideous green tophat that Percy has just conjured as part of his demonstration. Magic is a wondrous, beautiful thing, and he could have conjured a rose of pure ice, a kitten, or any sort of lively object, she thinks to herself with some scorn, and instead he chooses a faded green brocade hat with a length of ratty pink ribbon wrapped around it.

If she had any doubts that her brother was well and truly insane, she had just lost them.

But Percy and Alice seem to be well-suited; the well-dressed blonde picks up the hat and settles it on Percy's head, beaming widely. "You look like you again," she says delightedly. "Just like old times."

"I am, as always, at your service, my lady," Percy says with an elaborate, courtly bow.

* * *

Ginny is fuming.

She taps her wand against the kitchen counter she is leaning against. The sharp staccato clicks echo through the empty room.

"...hope I'm not imposing," Alice Kingsleigh's soft voice floats through the air. Ginny's grip on her wand tightens and she glares furiously at the neatly-polished floor.

"Not at all, not at all," Molly Weasley ushers their guest into the house, into the kitchen. Ginny bristles at the implications. Not only do they have to let this stranger into their lives, but into the very heart of the household as well?

"I hope you don't mind," Alice says hopefully, "But I brought my cat. I thought Percy might like to meet him."

A crazy stranger, Ginny amends her earlier thoughts, who thought her cat was sentient.

"What a... curious looking creature," Molly says, trying her best to be complimentary. In truth, the cat is a vicious-looking thing with ratty black-spotted white fur and red-rimmed, watery eyes. It snarls cutely and bats at Molly's face with one scrawny paw. "Wherever did you find such an... interesting specimen?"

"In China," Alice beams, cuddling the creature to her bosom. "Isn't my Bandersnatch the sweetest?"

"Of course," Molly coughs insincerely. "Well... Percy is waiting for you in the back garden, if you'd care to join him? I'll have the tea brought out in a moment."

"That would be wonderful," Alice says, and takes off in a flurry of blue satin skirts.

Ginny hears the knock on the door and rushes for it. "It's Charlie," she calls to her Mum, who is bustling about preparing the tea set. "I'll get it!"

Charlie Weasley is standing at the door, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. He's been away the past five years and hasn't been home to see Percy yet. It isn't an accident– from the horror stories that George and Ginny have fed him, his brother is insane or worse.

But his Mum has been bothering him to come home, and so come home he has. But he blinks in surprise at Ginny's flushed face as she yanks the door open quickly.

"Ginny?" he asks in bemusement as she pulls him by the arm through the familiar halls of his home, over to the back door.

"Just look!" Ginny hisses, pointing.

Charlie has only a moment to take in the scene. Percy is standing with a lovely young lady. His body is angled toward her, slightly, and from this angle Charlie can't see the look on his face. But that doesn't matter, though.

What matters is the little black-and-white cat that is cuddling on Percy's lady's arms.

Charlie lets out a strangled curse and whips his wand out. "Nobody move," he says in his best commanding voice, the one that even dragons listen to. "Everybody stay calm."

"Charlie!" Ginny wails, mortified.

Percy and his lady– Alice Something-or-other, Charlie recalls– turn to look at him, and Charlie is struck not by the crafty innocence in Alice's eyes, but by the barely-contained madness in his brother's.

"All right," Charlie says calmly, soothingly. "Miss– I'm sorry, I don't recall your surname–" He hears Ginny's sob of humiliation from behind him, and pays it no heed. "But please. Put that creature down and back away from it slowly."

"Really, Charles," and since when had Percy's eyes been that startling shade of gold, and not the warm brown Charlie remembered? "You have nothing to fear from this cat."

"Cat, nothing," Charlie growls, keeping his wand trained on the furry little menace. "That is a nundu."

"Nundu?" Alice titters politely behind one white-gloved hand. The other continued to stroke the conniving little hell-beast, which in turn regards Charlie with preternaturally intelligent feline eyes. "You must be mistaken. Bandersnatch is no nundu."

"And he is no danger to Alice, of that you may be certain," Percy adds.

The two of them are looking at Charlie like he– Charles Weasley, dragon keeper– is the one who is mad. Ginny is tugging at his sleeve with hissed instructions to stop embarrassing the family, and he can practically feel his mother's gaze burning the back of his neck.

Charlie holsters his wand with ill grace. "You can't say I didn't warn you," he quips in mingled frustration and annoyance.

"Tea?" Molly offers hesitantly.

* * *

End note: As I stated on my profile, this summer I'm staying in a place with an unstable internet connection... so I have to go to other places in order to upload documents. So update times will be unpredictable... but on the bright side, in the weeks during which I was unable to update, I got a lot of work done on this story.

So I can safely promise you that it will be finished. Rejoice!

Like it? Hate it? Leave a **review** and tell me all about it!


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: If I owned Alice in Wonderland, Alice/Hatter would have been a real pairing and not just insinuated. If I owned Harry Potter... well, let's just say that I don't, and leave it at that.

* * *

Author's note: I didn't mean for Ginny to be such a major character, but she just shouldered her way into the plot like the meddlesome busybody she is. I think she inherited it from her mother. Also, plot ahoy!

And as always... thanks to those who reviewed, it's always appreciated!

* * *

Chapter Three

* * *

"Chaperones," Ginny grumbles, rolling her eyes. "Of all the useless Muggle things..."

"Now dear," Harry does his best to placate her.

Really, though, in the back of his mind he agrees with her. It is another of those outdated Muggle fripperies, chaperones. Just another thing that makes the Wizarding world so much more appealing. Just another reason why his lovely wife is scowling.

Most of her frowns, though, can be blamed on the young couple in front of them.

Alice is dressed up in the latest Muggle fashions– cornflower-blue silk summer-dress in the latest style, hair in a stylish and elegant updo. Percy, on the other hand, wears an odd combination of ragged clothes– brown coat, pinstriped black trousers, a hideous polka-dotted bow tie, and that strange green tophat.

Together, they are the very picture of insanity.

But there is no denying the way Alice's body leans into his as he leads her in a meandering path around the spacious park. And Percy's eyes when he looks down at her are like a gentle fire.

The couple is perfectly in step as they turn quickly to rejoin Ginny and Harry.

"Enjoying the warm weather?" Harry asks Alice pleasantly.

"Yes, greatly," Alice smiles at him. "Your Cooling Charms are quite useful, if I do say so myself."

There is an awkward moment of silence in which Ginny scowls at the rose-bushes.

"What did happen to the Death Eaters, after all?" Percy asks Harry after a time.

Ginny coughs incredulously, if impolitely. "You've been awake for over a year now, and you haven't bothered to find out what's been going on?"

"There were more important things," Percy shrugs, and smiles at Alice.

"Well," Harry coughs. "Aside from the Malfoys and any students under eighteen, all of the marked Death Eaters are in prison."

"And the one who cursed me?" Percy asks idly.

Harry blinks. Stops. Looks over at Percy. "Someone cursed you?"

Percy rolls his eyes. "During the final battle at Hogwarts. I was in the Great Hall with the rest of you, Mum was fighting Bellatrix Lestrange, and someone cursed me to keep me from interfering with their fight. Remember that?"

Ginny is the one to answer while Harry is stuck in his thoughts. "We thought it was just a bad reaction," she explains slowly. "Hogwarts is a very magical environment, after all, and with all of the spells that were being flung around... We thought you'd been hit by a stray spell or a combination of wild magic."

Percy frowns. The expression– once so familiar– looks odd to Ginny now that she is so used to seeing that demented smile of his. With a pang, she realizes that she prefers the smile.

"I guess it doesn't matter," Percy decides eventually, and turns back to Alice.

* * *

Ginny Weasley never thought she'd consider Luna Lovegood an authoritative voice of wisdom. But as she tugs her best-friend-from-childhood into the Burrow, she can only be relieved that Luna is here. Another voice of sanity– and how she ever came to consider Luna sane, Ginny has no idea– can only be a positive thing.

Luna hasn't been the same, not really, since that trip a few years back, when she went to hunt down Crumple-Horned Snorkacks in Sweden and had disappeared for almost a year.

Luna is clearer now. Saner, almost.

So it is with a hopeful heart that Ginny introduces her friend to Percy and his Muggle.

But Luna Lovegood only blinks her overlarge eyes rapidly. "Oh," she says to Alice and Percy. "You've returned. How odd."

Alice and Percy beam at Luna, and together the three of them hold a conversation with so many made-up words and nonsensical phrases that Ginny can't make heads or tails of it.

Obviously, her decision regarding Luna's sanity was made a bit too rashly.

* * *

Hermione Weasley rolls her eyes. "I wasn't close to Percy, Harry. Yes, we were both Prefects, but never at the same time. And besides, he always disliked me for being close to you. Why in Merlin's name would you think me capable of convincing him of anything?"

"Hermione Weasley, you're my only hope," Ginny pleads with her. "Percy, he's– well, you'll understand when you see him. But nothing else has worked!"

"I suppose I can at lease try," Hermione sighs gracefully. "Very well."

That is how Hermione finds herself Apparating to the Burrow on a particularly lovely August morning.

The Burrow in all of its lopsided glory is festooned with balloons and ribbons. Hermione blinks when she sees it, rubs her eyes, and looks again. Percy and Alice are having tea and cake at a dainty white table on the front lawn.

"Oh, hello there, Hermione," a voice says from behind the curly-haired witch.

Hermione whirls around, wand at the ready, only to see Luna. "You startled me," Hermione chides her.

"I do believe you know Mister Weasley already," Luna continues on as if nothing had happened. "But please allow me to introduce you to Miss Alice Kingsleigh."

"Charmed, I'm sure," Hermione murmurs politely. By all accounts, this Miss Kingsleigh is a Muggle, so it can't be a love potion...

"Are you here to join the celebration?" Percy asks as Hermione and Luna sit at the table with them. Alice hands them each a slice of cake on flower-patterned china plates.

"I don't understand," Hemione balks. "What are you celebrating?"

"Why, it's my unbirthday today!" Alice exclaims happily, pressing her hands together excitedly.

"And mine as well," Percy adds. "Would you like some tea?"

"Why, what a terribly strange coincidence!" Luna Lovegood says cheerfully, "For today happens to be my unbirthday as well!"

"The world is a very small place indeed," Percy says as he hands Luna a teacup.

"You..." Hermione gapes, at a loss for words. "Unbirthday? What are you talking about?"

"Cake?" Alice offers politely.

"Ah, no thank you," Hermione declines hastily, her mind still whirring away. The wide-eyed blonde is apparently a wealthy heiress– but this is a different Percy, and one look at the enthralled redhead tells her that this is no gold-digger after a fortune.

She is so lost in her calculations that she doesn't even notice someone call her name.

"...mione. Hermione!"

The bushy-haired witch straightens. "I beg your pardon!"

"It won't work," Alice tells her wisely. "No matter how hard you try."

Hermione is speechless. "I beg your pardon?" she says again, this time as a question.

The three lunatics at the table just smile and laugh politely at her.

"What are you doing?" Hermione finally collects herself enough to demand.

Percy looks at Alice. Alice looks at Percy. They look at Luna, and Luna smiles back at them. It's an entire conversation without words, and Hermione can't decipher it at all.

"Well?" Hermione taps her foot impatiently.

"Why is a raven like a writing desk?" Percy asks after a minute, smiling in that odd way of his. Golden eyes are sparkling with amusement.

Hermione sputters, tries to come up with an answer, and fails miserably. "I– I don't–" She has to stop, horribly frustrated. "But that doesn't make any sense!"

Beside Percy, Alice throws her head back and laughs with abandon.

* * *

"Miss Kingsleigh is a menace," Hermione begins without preamble.

"Not you too," Harry groans, rubbing his forehead with one hand. "Ginny's been trying to convince me that Miss Kingsleigh is an evil stranger who's got her hooks into Percy, but I just don't see it. She's not that bad, is she?"

They are standing in the Burrow, watching Percy tease Alice's cat with a feather. The Bandersnatch bats at it sulkily while Alice giggles to one side.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say she was Luna's lost twin," Hermione says drily. "They have the same sort of aura."

"Aura?" Harry smirks at her. "I thought Divination was just a load of hogwash, remember?"

"Oh, you," Hermione swats his shoulder, smiling involuntarily, her earlier stress forgotten. "No, there's just something rather... otherworldly... about her."

They stand a while, looking.

"It's nice to see Percy so carefree," Harry decides after a moment. "I know you may not agree with me, but I think this is an improvement over the 'Big-Head Boy.' It's just..."

His voice trails off. Alice and Percy are both chasing after the Bandersnatch, who has made off with Alice's hat. They are laughing, their faces wreathed in joy.

Harry stares off after her, frowning. "She's..."

"Is something wrong?" Hermione asks, worried. "Is she going to be a problem?" Her fingers, hidden by her voluminous robes, rubbed the length of her wand.

"No, it's not that." He swallows his words as his eyes follow the willowy blonde girl. "I just feel like I know her from somewhere, that's all."

* * *

"...Nothing," Harry says with frustration to the assembled Weasleys. "I've asked everyone that was there, and they all say the same thing– no-one saw anything."

"You think they're lying?" Bill asks, frowning.

Alice and Luna are off in a corner, giggling over the Bandersnatch. The rest of the Weasleys are gathered around the unlit fire in the living room of the Burrow.

Harry shakes his head. "There's no way to tell."

"He's late... he's late..." Molly mumbles under her breath worriedly, shooting concerned glances at her wristwatch.

"Do you suppose Percy knows who did it?" Ginny presses. "I got that impression from his words a few weeks ago."

"But if he knew, why wouldn't he say anything?" Ron threw his hands up in confusion. "He'd want to catch the person who cursed him, wouldn't he?"

Harry can only shrug his shoulders.

Molly stands up from the couch to pace restlessly. "Percy is late... he's never late!"

Ginny rolls her eyes. "He probably got caught up with something at his shop. You know how he gets about those hats of his..."

Molly presses her lips together, but doesn't stop pacing.

"Check the Family Clock," Hermione suggests kindly from her place next to Ron.

Molly's eyes brighten. "Thank you, Hermione dear! I'll do that right now." She bustles off with a swish of her robes.

Ginny shakes her head fondly. "When will she–"

The scream echoes through the house.

The Weasleys and Potters leap up as one unit, scrambling for the kitchen. There they find Molly leaning heavily against the table, one hand pressed to her heaving chest. "The Clock," she gasps out, a look of terror on her face. "The Clock!"

It is immediately apparent what has shocked her– Percy's hand is pointing to 'Mortal Peril.'

But there's no time to think about that either, because the whoosh of the Floo activating in the next room over draws them back into the living room, their wands drawn in caution.

George Weasley stumbles through the Floo, croaks something unintelligible, and collapses unconscious on the floor.

* * *

George wakes moments later from a hand slapping at his face. He opens his eyes, and the blurry mass of gold and white and blue eventually resolves itself into Alice's face.

But this is a different Alice than the one he has known– her eyes are narrowed and fierce, and her mouth is set into a stubborn line. "What happened?" she asks, in a tone that will tolerate no lies or misdirection.

"Ambush," George rasps out. "Diagon Alley... Death Eaters..."

Ginny and Harry exchange a Significant Glance. "George," Harry says patiently, "There are no more Death Eaters. They've all been caught."

"They had..." George wheezes for breath. "...Masks. Cloaks. Death Eaters."

"That's enough of that," Molly scolds. "George needs his rest. Shoo! Shoo!"

Harry pulls a shocked-looking Alice out of the room as George collapses backwards, unconscious.

* * *

Percy has watched his world go up in flames twice, metaphorically one time and literally the other. The loss of his job, his estrangement from his family, and the devastation of his lifestyle as a wizard undid him. The Red Queen's victory over the Underland completely destroyed him.

He isn't normally one to wax poetic about how it had "broken" him– the very melodrama of the thought is horrifying. But he can't deny that there are pieces missing, fragments of his mind and soul that were shaken loose in the Jabberwocky's fiery breath, and have never been glued back together properly.

When he wakes up in a small, cold stone cell somewhere underground, his first thought is that he's back in the Red Queen's unkind clutches. Then he remembers Alice.

He isn't worried anymore.

Percy smiles at his captors, and they fidget and flinch at his calm, amused gaze. They don't understand how he can be so calm in the face of certain death, and it scares them.

What they don't know, of course, is that Alice is coming.

Percy waits, and smiles.

* * *

End notes: Did you see what I did there? Don't you just love cliffhangers? No? Feel free to vent your frustrations in a review!


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: If I owned Alice in Wonderland, Alice/Hatter would have been a real pairing and not just insinuated. If I owned Harry Potter... well, let's just say that I don't, and leave it at that.

* * *

Author's note: admittedly, George would have been a better choice for Hatter. But with one ear gone, he's dreadfully unsymmetrical. That's why I chose Percy instead.

Also, I owe you all a thousand apologies for disappearing like that! So the short story is, my computer crashed and I thought I lost everything. Fortunately for me, I remembered I'd made a back up copy of this story... unfortunately for you, I only remembered this about a month ago. Also unfortunately for you, I lost a lot of very important documents and it took a while to get back on track. At any rate, you may consider this your over-a-month-late Christmas present from me. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Four

* * *

"Kidnapped," Harry repeats blankly, exchanging puzzled looks with the others. "You think that Percy was kidnapped."

"It's the only explanation," the Head Auror explains apologetically. He is fidgeting slightly, clearly unnerved at being in the same room as the Defeater of Voldemort under such terrible circumstances. "There wasn't much property damage, the Dark Mark wasn't raised, and no-one else was injured or harmed in any way. The only think that happened, except for the appearance of the Death Eaters, was Mister Weasley's disappearance."

"But why would they take Percy?" Molly asks tearfully. "Why would they want my baby?"

"Ma'am, at this point in time, we're not even sure that the culprits are actually Death Eaters." The scowl on the Head Auror's face deepens. "It is possible that these are merely hoodlums using the reputation of the Death Eaters in order to divert attention from their real purpose."

"Real purpose?" Harry prompts, when no-one else seems to know what to say.

The Head Auror only shrugs helplessly.

He leaves the Burrow in a swirl of red robes and with a promise to keep them updated of any new information. The Weasleys, Potters, Luna, and Alice exchange glances.

There is a heavy silence that presses down on them. Memories, laid to rest long before, have arisen, and each of them struggles to forget the horrors that the War had wrought in each of them. It is Arthur who breaks the silence first, the normally mild-mannered man unnaturally harsh in the face of his son's disappearance.

"Bill, Charlie," and the two named sons look up immediately, the promise of vengeance in their eyes. It might not be the Percy they are used to, but he is their brother all the same, and the one who has taken him will pay in blood. "Can you use your contacts? Try to speed up the investigation? See who would want to kidnap him?"

They nod, and leave quietly.

Arthur turns next to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. "The rest of us can..."

"Wait," Alice interrupts, "what about me?"

There is no doubt in Harry's mind that she wishes to help. It strikes him as odd, as Muggle and Muggleborn women are usually more retiring than the steely-eyed blonde currently staring down the Weasley patriarch with a mutinous expression on her pretty face. Then again, he is forced to concede, there is nothing normal about Alice.

"But you have no magic, Miss Kingsleigh," Arthur Weasley explains patiently. "What could you possibly do to help?" He shakes his head and takes her by the arm gently, leading her over to a chair. Alice refuses to sit, though, and glares at him.

"You must accept that you have no place in this investigation," Percy's father takes a different tack, when kindness gets him nowhere. "You would only get in the way. You have no skills that could aid us, no contacts that could prove to be of any use. At best you would be a dead weight; at worst, a hindrance. Do not persist in your delusions, my dear. We will find him and return him home soon enough."

He turns back to the magically-inclined people in the room to continue planning.

But Harry pays Arthur no attention. There is something odd happening. There is a change about Alice.

She had been angry before, but it was a helpless, undirected anger. Unfocused. Weak in strength, with no force behind it. That is about to change before his eyes.

* * *

Ginny keeps a watchful eye on the two blondes. Luna is Luna, with her eyes wide and unfocused, her mouth slightly open in a perpetual expression of surprise. And Alice...

Alice is still standing there, hands in tight fists, an expression of such pure stubbornness on her face that Ginny half-expects her to throw a temper-tantrum like a child.

Ginny's father is saying something about search patterns and magical traces, but something keeps Ginny's attention on the blonde duo instead of the more pertinent conversation.

"No magic," Alice says lowly. "In the way. A hindrance." She laughs, and it is sharp and cutting. "Impossible, he says."

Then Luna Lovegood steps up and lays one hand on Alice's shoulder. "Have faith," the dreamy woman says, her voice echoing as though it is coming from miles away. "As long as you are my cousin's champion, you are not helpless."

And some of that helpless anger fades from Alice's face.

"I have no weapon, no armor," Alice says lowly, but her hands have loosened, and that crafty, intelligent look is back in her eyes. "But I have the Bandersnatch..."

Alice's kitten, which had been twining sinuously around Ginny's legs, looks up when Alice says its name. Ginny is struck anew by the startling intelligence in its almond-shaped feline eyes, and wonders for the first time if Charlie might have had a point when he called it dangerous.

"We should go to Gringotts," Luna says abruptly, her tone bright and cheerful and completely different than that gloomy voice that had issued forth a few minutes before.

Even Arthur looks up at that, and he smiles at Luna as though she has said something clever. "Wonderful idea, my dear," he congratulates the blonde witch. "Why, I suppose Miss Kingsleigh has never seen it! It will be good for you to get out of the house for a while," he tells Alice, not meaning to be condescending but pulling it off regardless. "It will take your mind off of things while we take care of this nasty little business."

"We'll go too," Harry volunteers abruptly, and Ginny looks over at him in shock. But he does not notice; his eyes are trained on Alice. "It could be dangerous. Maybe they'll go after Alice too, since whoever is after Percy might know that they are involved."

"Splendid plan," Arthur beams at them, and bustles away with Molly to make preparations.

"But there's no time for Gringotts–" Ginny protests, frowning sternly at her husband. How can he think to dally, at a time like this...!

"Gringotts," Hermione explains to a puzzled Alice, sotto voice, "is a Wizarding bank. It's run by goblins."

"Terribly disproportioned folk," Luna takes over the explanation. "With small bodies and enormous heads."

"Luna!" Hermione is shocked and appalled. "You shouldn't say things like that! It's terribly rude of you!"

But there is a slow smile spreading over Alice's face, and her eyes are narrow and sharp. "I see," she says lowly. "To Gringotts, then."

* * *

"Remind me again why we are following them, instead of helping to find Percy," Ginny hisses furiously as the group enters Diagon Alley. Her nails are digging into Harry's hand, which Harry bears patiently. "Remind me why you persuaded me to go along with this."

There isn't so much as a scorchmark left from the attack, though Harry sees the shopkeepers relax visibly when they notice that he is out and about. The war may be years in the past, but people have long memories, and his presence is calming to them.

He sighs, and looks down at his wife's angry eyes. "I don't know," he says almost helplessly, as he makes a useless gesture with his free hand. "I just... I just knew that I needed to be here. To go with them. I don't know why."

Ginny falls silent with a huff, for which Harry is grateful.

It's true– at this moment, he knows nothing more than that he should follow Alice, and the suspense and uncertainly tears at his mind. He resigns himself to a tedious tourist trip to the Bank.

At least, he thinks to himself, Percy will probably have been found already by the time they return. And while he wishes that he could join the search, his intuition is screaming at him not to.

What Harry hasn't planned for, of course, is what happens when they enter Gringotts Bank.

It's a slow day at the Bank. Witches and wizards are in their homes, with their families, not out spending money. Therefore the bank is nearly empty when Luna and Alice enter arm-in-arm as though they own the establishment.

Harry and Ginny enter a moment afterwards, just in time to see Alice march straight up to one of the tellers and say, "I demand to see your Queen."

The goblin bares its teeth, but doesn't take its eyes off of the stack of coins it is counting behind the counter. "Mind your tongue, filthy human. Our Queen is too busy to waste her precious time on the likes of..."

The Bandersnatch growls. It's a very loud growl for such a small cat, and the goblin looks up in shock. Its eyes widen as it sees the angered cat, and then widen further when it notices the angered Alice.

"I said," the now-scowling blonde snaps, "I demand to see your Queen."

Harry reaches for his wand surreptitiously– goblins are short-tempered at the best of times, and Alice has no way to defend herself if it should attack her–

There is a loud crash as the goblin stumbles to its feet, the coins it was counting clattering to the ground. The noise echoes through the empty bank, and all eyes swing over to look at them.

Harry and Ginny both draw simultaneously, slipping back-to-back with wands at the ready as they prepare for an onslaught. They are not prepared for the goblin to bow lowly to Alice, falling to its knees and begging for forgiveness, that it had not realized who she was...

"Your Queen," Alice reminds it sharply, no nonsense in her tone.

"At once, the Alice," the goblin says her name like a prayer, and leads the group of four into the depths of Gringotts Bank. Harry and Ginny exchange suspicious, confused glances as they follow the others down a set of gilded stairs. Just what have they gotten themselves into?

* * *

Murmurs of "The Alice!" follow them through labyrinthine halls as they descend down into the very depths of Gringotts. Twisting stairs and sloping halls have been carved out beneath Diagon Alley, and soon they have progressed so far that neither Harry nor Ginny can remember the way back to the surface.

Luna and Alice are still arm-in-arm, still smiling, and ignoring the stares and whispers. The Bandersnatch trots after them, occasionally pausing to hiss at the goblins in the halls that stop to stare in amazement after them.

"I told you there was something wrong with her," Ginny hisses at him through gritted teeth. "I don't like this, Harry. I don't like this at all."

Harry's response is cut off by their guide's obsequious bow and murmured, "The Queen, the Alice." The green-grey creature gestures at an enormous gilded door, as if they are expected to enter.

"Thank you," Alice smiles sharply, and the goblin cringes away from her.

They enter.

Unlike the halls they have just passed, rough-hewn from dark grey stone and bare of adornment, the throne room they have just entered is lavish and decadent. Gold practically drips from every available surface. The floors are carpeted with a maroon rug so plush that Harry's feet sink into it sinfully with every step.

Most striking, however, is the woman seated on the huge throne at the end of the large room. Certainly her luxurious robes and large jewelry are eye-catching, but what causes Harry and Ginny to gawk in astonishment is the oddity of her body proportions.

Harry is the first to regain his composure, and he sweeps a courtly bow. It takes a moment, but Ginny curtseys as well. "Your Majesty," he says formally, "it is an honor to meet you at last."

"Well, well." The Queen's dark eyes, highlighted by blue eye-shadow and oddly small beneath an enormous forehead, narrow cunningly. "If it isn't Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived." The golden crown perched atop her bright red curls glints in the golden light of a thousand candles.

"Your Majesty," Harry begins, and pauses. He looks to Luna, because he has no idea what he's doing here and it was her idea to come here in the first place.

But the Queen notes where his eyes go, and when she catches sight of Alice she straightens abruptly as though shocked.

"Oh," she says, her face scrunching up into a scowl. "You again. I should have known."

"Iracebeth of Crims," Alice says. "Formerly Red Queen of the Underland, currently banished and disgraced–"

"Currently Queen of the Goblins," Iracebeth corrects her primly, and adjusts herself on her throne. There is a clacking noise, and for the first time Harry notices that the Goblin Queen's right hand has been chained to the hand of a skeleton. The red-haired woman's eyes narrow. "And were I you, I'd not be saying such things about me, since you're clearly here to ask a boon of me. I have the upper hand this time, Alice of Legend, and don't think I've forgiven you for slaying my Jabber-baby-wocky."

"With all due respect," Alice says sweetly and obviously falsly, "Your Jabberwocky was trying to kill me at the time."

"Semantics," the Queen waves her hand dismissively. "Now, tell me why you've come to me... and _I_ shall decide whether to accommodate you... or not."

"My Hatter has been kidnapped," Alice says without preamble. "I want to know where he is."

"You lost your fool again?" Iracebeth smirks. "Dear, dear, Alice, you really should keep better track of your playthings. This isn't the first time you've lost him... is it?"

Harry doesn't know to what they are referring, but from the pained look that crosses Alice's face it's an unpleasant memory. And from the death-grip Ginny has on his hand, his lovely wife has tired of being confused and is at the point of throwing a few Blasting Curses around to get herself some answers.

"The answer to your request," the Queen says grandly as she settles back into her plush throne, "Is no. I'm afraid I simply do not feel like helping you today."

"He saved your life," Alice reminds her gently.

Iracebeth's face scrunches up. "And I tried to kill him once, you know," she says in protest.

"If it wasn't for him, you'd be dead," Alice continues. "Because of him, you've got this profitable kingdom, all of your... unusual-looking subjects, all of this lovely gold..."

"It is lovely, isn't it?" Iracebeth murmurs. Alice doesn't answer. "And why would you think I had the ability to find him, anyway?" the former Red Queen sniffs. "If I could, don't you think I would have done it when I wanted him dead?"

Alice gives the Queen a Look.

"Oh, very well," Iracebeth huffs. "But I'll have you know that I am doing this because I want to and not because I think I owe him anything."

"How," Harry interjects politely, "do you plan to do so, your Majesty?"

Ginny, by his side, picks up on his train of thought immediately. "You've never met my brother," she says suspiciously. "I've kept an eye on him for years; I'd have known if he'd ever made contact with someone as important as the Queen of the Goblins." The Queen preens self-importantly, and Ginny soldiers on. "What manner of magic, then, do you intend to use?"

"It is the taint of foreign magics, of course," the Queen explains negligibly. "They never fade, you see, and there are few enough of us around that tracking one such as him will be child's play."

"Foreign magics," Ginny repeats slowly. "Percy... bears the taint of foreign magics?"

"Stop repeating what I say, idiotic girl," Queen Irecebeth snaps irritably. But then, when she gets a better look at the matched looks of confusion that Harry and Ginny sport, her scowl fades. Then her lips twitch, her eyes brighten, and the Queen throws her head back inelegantly and cackles in insane delight. "You didn't tell him?"

Alice does not fidget. Her gaze is stony as she says, "It was never relevant."

"Never–" the Queen sputters, spittle flying as she fails to contain her mirth. "Never– ha!– relevant–"

"With all due respect, _your Majesty_," Alice bites out sourly, "time is running low. We still do not know where my Hatter is– or what is being done with him at his very moment–"

"I still want to know what this foreign magic business is all about," Harry insists at the same time.

Alice turns to glare at Harry. "Now is not the time," she hisses, losing her temper for the first time that Harry has ever seen. Her blue eyes seem to take on a light of their own as she stares him down.

"Now is the perfect time," Harry refuses to budge. And the Queen's laughter, loud and braying, threatens to drown out the argument entirely. To Harry's right, Ginny is on the verge of losing her temper.

And just as Ginny opens her mouth to let loose a vicious verbal tirade–

"Children," Luna says calmly.

Cool rationality washes over Harry like a Calming Charm, and he turns to look over at a serenely smiling Luna, who is acting as though she has not just performed an impossible feat of magic.

"You always did like to cheat, cousin," Iracebeth says, somewhat bitterly.

"Time runs low," Luna admonishes them all calmly.

"You– what–" Ginny sputters. Then, by force of will, she closes her eyes. When she opens them again, soft brown orbs are as hard as steel. "Right now you are going to tell us where Percy is. Then we are going to go get him. Then we are going to beat up whoever dared to do this to him." She glares at Alice. "And then– when all that unpleasantness is over and done with, you are going to explain to us exactly what is going on."

"Don't I get a say in any of this?" Harry inquires mildly of his wife.

"No," Ginny snaps.

At the same time, Alice says, "Very well."

* * *

The sun shines cheerily over Diagon Alley, and even the cobblestones gleam brightly. That same sunshine glints off of the dangerous-looking sword belted at Alice's side.

The four of them– Harry, Ginny, Alice and Luna– and the Bandersnatch stand on the steps outside of Gringotts Bank. People are bustling around as usual, and Harry is able to tune out the familiar sights and smells with the ease of long practice.

"Once this is over," he says to Alice seriously, "we must have that conversation. But in the meantime, Ginny and I are needed in Wiltshire. Luna will escort you back to the Burrow–"

"No," Alice says calmy.

Harry raises both eyebrows. "Is there someplace else you'd rather go?"

Alice has been wearing the same hard, stubborn look on her face ever since the red-haired Goblin Queen handed her the silvery sword with a low grumble about how she'd have destroyed the Jabber-baby-wocky-killing instrument had she been able, and Alice had better keep the menace away from her cute little subjects. Alice's hand caresses the hilt as she half-turns.

Steely blue eyes look into Harry's own green ones, and Harry can tell from years of experience commanding his Aurors that there are no words that can compel this woman to stand down. On a certain level, he can admire that sort of tenacity, especially from a Muggle woman who has been raised on a diet of helplessness so unlike the self-sufficience taught to proper pureblooded women. On another level, the knowledge is disquieting.

"Lord Potter," Alice says softly, so that Ginny cannot hear. "Harry. Let us drop the charade for one moment, shall we? I know you, as you know me, and you know that this is my Quest and not yours."

"It is true that I have felt a certain kinship since our first meeting," Harry allowed, not allowing his suspicions to show on his face, "but you must understand that as you are a mere Muggle, I have strong misgivings about allowing you to face malicious Wizards by yourself."

Alice maintains a steady gaze. "Did you never wonder why you felt that way? Why you felt that you knew me, when we were but strangers? We are both champions," Alice said quietly. "We would know each other anywhere. And, if you think on it, if you search your intuition, you will find that I am not defenceless– and I will conquer this obstacle as I have every obstacle that came before me."

It goes against every ingrained reaction that Harry has developed over his years as Head Auror. It goes against everything he's learned over the course of his life. But Alice is right. His magic itself seems to be calling for Harry to allow her to proceed alone. He breathes out to calm himself, closes his eyes for a moment, and opens them again.

"An hour," he says finally. "I will give you an hour. That is how long it will take me to mobilize the Auror forces and obtain a warrant to enter the premises. Ginny and I will, of course, be needed to coordinate; should you be able to escape Luna and make your way to Wiltshire while I am otherwise occupied..." he allows his voice to trail off.

Alice smiles, and it is a cold, hard little smile that bears no mirth whatsoever. "Thank you."

"This conversation of ours," Harry remarks mildly as he reaches over to tap Ginny's shoulder. "I imagine that it will be quite extraordinary. I look forward to hearing your explanations."

Alice nods her head in acquiescence.

"Yes, dear?" Ginny asks. Ever since they've learned where Percy is being held, Harry's wife has hardly been able to contain her anger. It is no wonder- this is an enemy that they should have known would come back to haunt them.

"Luna is going to escort Alice back to the Burrow," Harry lies with a straight face. "The two of us are needed to galvanize the troops. Shall we?"

Ginny nods. "Wiltshire," the redhead glances both ways quickly to make sure no one is looking, then spits on the ground as if to rid her mouth of a foul taste. "I should have known those good-for-nothing–"

"Wiltshire," Alice says to Ginny. "What's in Wiltshire?"

Ginny's mouth twists into an ugly scowl. "Malfoy Manor."

* * *

There is a sound akin to that of a gong. It reverberates through the stone chamber, and Percy who is leaning against the wall can feel it thrum in his bones.

One of the cloaked figures leaps to her feet, and in doing so the hood of her cloak is knocked backward. White-blonde hair, streaked more liberally with white than blonde, shines in the torch-light. "The ward-line!" Narcissa Malfoy gasps. "But they shouldn't have been able to find us so quickly, not unless– who did you tell, foolish child? Who did you tell!"

Percy only smiles. Golden eyes glitter mockingly. "I told you they'd come for me."

Narcissa flicks her wand, and an image of the front lawn appears floating in midair.

"A girl and a cat," she sniffs haughtily. "They sent a Muggle girl and a cat to fight us. Do they think us fools? Or merely incompetent?"

The other cloaked figure shrugs.

_Oh, Alice_. Heat burns in Percy's chest, brighter than all of the colors of the Underland combined. He can't help but smile. Perhaps joy is not the best emotion under the circumstances. But he's never had a single doubt that Alice would come for him. If storming the Red Queen's castle was possible, then the love of his life would have no trouble with one under-protected Mansion.

"I fail to see what has you so enthused," the elegant blonde woman drawls, twirling her wand around her finger in mixed boredom and irritation. "After all, what can one girl and her cat possibly do?"

* * *

On the outside of Malfoy Manor, the Muggle girl and her cat are staring at the elegant house. Then the Bandersnatch sneezes, and the foundations of Malfoy Manor shake with an ominous groan.

* * *

End notes: There's only maybe a chapter and the epilogue left! So rejoice! And fear not, for answers will be forthcoming... eventually...

Also, I think I might change the title of this story to "Rule of Three" or something along those lines. What do you think? As always, any feedback is greatly appreciated.


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: If I owned Alice in Wonderland, Alice/Hatter would have been a real pairing and not just insinuated. If I owned Harry Potter... well, let's just say that I don't, and leave it at that.

* * *

Author's note: There has been some confusion as to the timeline. So, without further ado:

17 years ago– DH final battle, Percy is 21, falls into a coma, goes to the Underland

13 years ago– Alice is 8– she goes to the Underland for the first time

3 years ago– Alice is 18– she goes to the Underland for the second time

2 years ago– Percy wakes (his body is still 21), Alice is 19, story starts

Present day– Alice is 21, Percy is 23, Harry is 33, Ginny is 32...

(Note: DH epilogue will happen 2 years in the future)

* * *

Chapter 5

* * *

_On the outside of Malfoy Manor, the Muggle girl and her cat are staring at the elegant house. Then the Bandersnatch sneezes, and the foundations of Malfoy Manor shake with an ominous groan._

Alice blinks as the ground beneath her shakes, then looks down. The little black-and-white spotted cat twining through her legs only bats its eyes at her innocently. "Really," she says, amused despite herself, "Was that entirely necessary?"

The cat hiccups, which Alice interprets as an affirmative.

"Well, shall we find our Hatter, then?" she asks the creature.

The Bandersnatch mewls inquiringly.

"Oh, that?" Alice gestures towards the house. "How are we to get inside, you mean? An elementary exercise, my dear."

To prove her point, she walks up to the front door, stepping carefully over the tail of a pure-white albino peacock on her way. Then she reaches up, and with one dainty hand– knocks.

* * *

"Really, Astoria, I simply don't see the benefit to owning another vacation home. We already have the cottage on the French coast." Draco Malfoy shakes his head, frowning. He loves his wife dearly, and she loves him, but sometimes he thinks she loves his money more.

Astoria's head, green-hued and framed by translucent flames, pouts prettily. "But darling," she says, "I simply must have an Italian villa! They're all the rage these days- Pamela Nott has one, and she's been gloating most terribly all month!"

There is the soft pop of a House Elf's entrance. "Master Malfoy is having a visitor," Mipsy squeaks softly.

Draco knows he shouldn't be happy to end a conversation with his wife, but his smile is one of relief anyway. "I'll think about it," he promises his wife. "But for now, business calls. Give my love to our son."

Astoria blows him a kiss. Then her face dissipates into green flame.

Draco stands stiffly, his knees creaking. Using the Floo is becoming more and more of a chore as the years progress. He is not as young as he once way. "And who is this visitor?" he demands of the Elf.

"It is being the Alice," the green-skinned creature says nervously, wringing its hands together. "The Alice is being here and she is not being happy."

"The Alice?" Draco wracks his brain and can't think of any Alice he is acquainted with. He shakes his head. House Elves can't be trusted as reliable messengers, after all. They are notoriously prone to misunderstanding simple instructions. "Never mind. Where is she?"

"She is knocking on the door," Mipsy whimpers, and pops away before Draco can order her to iron her ears as punishment for her incompetence.

He pats his robes into place, checks his reflection in a nearby mirror, and makes his way to the front door. It is only mid-afternoon, and the sun's rays passing through the windows lend a golden aura to his surroundings. The golden rooms and polished wooden floors of the Manor glitter and glow like those of a palace in the sunlight, and his steps are light as he reaches the door.

There is a girl standing on the steps. Pretty enough, blonde, wearing a simple blue-and-white checkered gown of obviously Muggle make. A hideous little black-and-white cat twines around her ankles; she has her hand raised to knock. She lowers it when she sees Draco, and curtseys. "I am Miss Alice Kingsleigh," she introduces herself.

"Draco Malfoy," he introduces himself imperiously, cutting her off rudely. "And I suggest you vacate the premises before the Aurors arrive. I do not take kindly to trespassers, be they Wizard or Muggle."

He turns, heavily embroidered robes swishing grandly, and makes as if to shut the door behind him. The girl's next words stop him in his tracks.

"The Aurors will be arriving, but not for the reasons that you think," Her voice is poisonously sweet. "Tracking charms on a kidnapped Wizard have been traced to this residence. They'll have the warrant ready in less than an hour."

Draco turns back to the young Miss Kingsleigh, and his irritation is showing clearly on his face. He should keep his composure better, as expected from a Wizard of his station, but her tale is absolutely preposterous. "Kidnapped Wizard?" he asks incredulously. "Please, child, contain yourself. Your pitiful tales will not gain you any favor in this house."

"He was kidnapped from Diagon Alley less than twenty-four hours ago," Miss Kingsleigh continues. The Bandersnatch snorts restlessly by her side and butts her ankle with its head. "He was taken by two figures wearing dark cloaks and white skull-like masks."

"That's quite impossible," Draco, but he is less certain this time. His hand grips the doorframe; his other hand tightens around his wand. A thousand suspicions he has had over the last few months are streaming through his mind.

"You know something," Miss Kingsleigh says, as if in sudden realization. She steps forward intently. "You have seen or heard something recently, about this." Her eyes are cold, hard, and blue, like a cloudless sky in winter

It is improper, to say the least. Miss Kingsleigh has no chaperone. She is alone, with only a cat and a sword she probably has no idea how to use. But Draco is suspicious enough to hold the door open for her. "Please come in," he says, voice strained. "I think we might have a reason to converse after all."

* * *

"My mother is rather... distracted, of late," Draco Malfoy tells her once they are safely ensconced in the sumptuous green-and-silver-decorated parlor. "She complains of constant headaches, and spends most of her time alone. My father attends her."

Alice isn't afraid of being alone with a man who may or may not have kidnapped her fiance. The Bandersnatch may be kitten-sized, but Alice knows that its claws, teeth, and venom are just as potent in its miniature state.

"How long has she had this illness?"

Draco Malfoy shrugs. "A little over two years now, though it has worsened recently."

"When is the last time you saw either of them?"

"You must understand, Miss Kingsleigh, the I am a very busy man. I do not often have the time for meaningless socialization, and with my mother's illness..." the aristocratic Wizard lets the excuses fade and his eyes harden. "Three days," he admits at length.

"And you would believe your parents capable?"

He ran a hand over his face wearily. "As much as I would like to lie, Miss Kingsleigh, I know perfectly well that either or both of my parents would be eminently capable of kidnapping a person off of the streets."

The blond man is practically vibrating with tension. Alice lets her voice soften. "Lord Malfoy," she says gently, "what are you hiding? What frightens you?"

He lets out a long, slow breath. "Three days ago, my mother claimed that she felt so unwell that she could not possibly remain in her room any longer. She insisted that we make up a room for her in the dungeon, where she would be soothed by the cool air and quiet."

"In the dungeon." Alice's voice hardens once more.

Draco Malfoy nods. "In light of your... tale... I can only fear what mischief she and my father have initiated. We cannot bear another scandal, and the last thing I wish is for my parents to be entombed in Azkaban prison. And you claim that the Aurors are on their way?"

"I was given an hour. I approximate that I have used but a quarter of that time."

He sighs. "I suppose I should show you to the basement, then. But I warn you, should our suspicions be correct... this may not end well. Your life could be in peril."

"If there is danger, you may be assured that I am eminently capable of taking care of myself," Alice says, caressing the hilt of her sword with one hand. Draco Malfoy doesn't believe her, judging by the skeptical glance he sends her way. Alice doesn't mind; she's been underestimated by people far more powerful than Draco Malfoy before– and each time, she's come out on top.

* * *

"That foolish boy!" Narcissa's greying white-blonde hair whips behind her as she turns on her heel. Her high-heeled shoes clatter loudly against the stone floor. "How could he? Betray us- welcome that Muggle into our home-"

"Calm yourself, dearest." the other figure, still hooded, remains calm. "She is but a Muggle, with no power and no standing. He merely wishes to ascertain her reasons for trespassing upon our property."

"And that filthy little creature, in _my_ house–"

"I beg your pardon," a youthful voice interrupts her rant. "But my Bandersnatch is most certainly not filthy."

Narcissa turns, and sees her worst nightmares realized. A Muggle in her home, standing before her, looking her straight in the eyes as if they were– God forbid– equals. The aristocratic woman sneers. "You worry for your grimy little pet, and not my captive? Were I you, I would be more careful of my words, lest something... unfortunate happen to him."

She flicks her wand elegantly with one slender, pale hand. The chains that bind Percy tighten, surprising a gasp out of the redheaded Wizard.

"Mother! What in Merlin's name–" Draco arrives moments after the Muggle girl, and his eyes are wide with horror. "What is going on in here? What have you done?" He is faster than Narcissa; his wand flicks, and the chains drop away.

Percy is ready for it. He dodges to one side and takes cover behind a stone pillar.

Without a hostage, Narcissa aims her wand at the Muggle girl. The chit may have brought a sword with her, but Muggle women are notorious for their refusal to exert themselves. The girl probably only has the thing with her for show.

The rasp of metal-on-metal is very loud in the sudden silence, and Narcissa's grey eyes trace the length of the long, silver blade that the girl is in the process of drawing. It is an impressive blade, true, but Narcissa is of Black blood, and her family is better at dueling than anyone alive.

"You think you can defeat me?" Narcissa taunts her. "You think you can defeat us? It is three against one, little girl. Are you ready to surrender?"

There is a very, very loud growl. Suddenly, the puny little kitten is puny no longer. The Muggle gives the enormous cat a mildly disapproving glance. "Behave," she tells the gargantuan creature; Narcissa gapes.

Thin, watery blue eyes peer at her blearily through shaggy white fur, and a low rumble begins somewhere within the Bandersnatch's chest. The massive cat lowers itself, tail lashing back and forth, and eyes Lucius and Draco predatorily. Its lips peel back, revealing rows of vicious, jagged teeth.

"I think my Bandersnatch is more than capable of taking care of any threats," the girl reaches up absently and pats her pet on the head; even though the Bandersnatch is crouching, she still has to get up on tip-toe to reach.

"So, you rely on your pet to win?" Narcissa frowns. The thing may well be related to a Nundu, and she has no desire to discover if it can breath out poisonous gas like its larger black cousins. "How cowardly of you, Muggle."

"My name is Alice Kingsleigh," the girl said, and takes a ready stance, sword held expertly in front of her. "You kidnapped my fiance. The Bandersnatch is here to make sure these two don't interfere. This..." her eyes narrow. "This is personal."

So the girl thinks she can play in Narcissa's world, according to Narcissa's rules? Narcissa smiles condescendingly at the girl, delighting in the spark of rage that lights the other blonde's eyes. "Prepare for defeat then, little girl," the lady Malfoy sneers, and sends off a few quick stunners.

The Muggle girl, Alice, raises her sword to block them. Narcissa knows that magic is conducted by, not repelled by steel, and so she anticipates a quick battle. She follows the jets of red light with her eyes, and that is all that saves her.

The stunners bounce off of the sword.

Its odd silvery sheen flickers almost blue in the low torchlight. Narcissa's eyes widen, and she hurriedly dodges the stunners that have been send right back her way. "Impossible," she gasps, once she has regained her composure; Alice, still grim, has not moved at all.

"What manner of blade is this?" Narcissa demands, her voice rising shrilly. "What manner of sorcery is this?"

"This?" Alice's eyes meet Narcissa's squarely, and for the first time, the older woman begins to feel the first stirrings of fear in her belly. "This is the Vorpal Sword."

"Impossible," Narcissa denies. "That blade is but a myth! A children's tale!"

"Impossible?" Alice smirks. "Only if you believe it is. Sometimes I believe in as many as six impossible things before breakfast."

Lucius, Narcissa notes absently, looks rather unattractive when gaping. She catches a glance of red from the corner of her eye; the caged Weasley is watching the proceedings with a fond smile.

Alice steps forward.

Narcissa fires off every spell she can think of. She casts cheering charms, cleaning charms, levitation spells, battle spells, and when those fail her, she casts bone-breaking curses and blood-boiling curses and every Dark Arts spell in her repertoire. Alice deflects each and every one of them with a flick of her sword and a look of quiet confidence in her eyes. She keeps walking forward in a direct line, heading straight for Narcissa.

The witch panics. She gives up on the direct attack route. She transfigures the furniture; the metal bars that had been caging the Weasley are turned into as many snakes; the bedframe becomes a bear; the blankets become dogs and the pillows eagles with nasty, raking talons.

Alice stops her steady progression, and Narcissa breathes a sigh of relief, thinking the girl finished. But Alice explodes into motion, her sword cutting effortlessly through fake flesh and rending snakes to pieces. When she stops, she is surrounded by the debris of shattered wood and metal bars that have been cut clean through by that mysterious, deadly sword.

Narcissa backs away.

Alice moves forward.

"Yield," Alice says conversationally. "And I will not harm you. I will take my Wizard and leave."

Yield? To a Muggle? Unthinkable. Narcissa continues backing away until her back hits the wall. Her arm is still extended, her wand aimed at the Muggle's heart, but her hand is shaking so badly and her heart beating so quickly that she cannot get the words out. Her mind is blank; she sees her life flash before her eyes.

Alice's sword comes to rest at her throat. The girl leans in, and deadly serious blue eyes meet terrified grey.

"Yield," Alice demands. Her voice echoes through the stone hall; her eyes glint dangerously in the torchlight.

"Never," Narcissa hisses. Even that slight movement of skin against steel is enough to draw blood; the keen edge of Alice's blade is stained red.

Narcissa Malfoy doesn't even flinch at the small cut on her neck. "I will never surrender," she declares furiously, her voice rising. "I will not be chained! I will not allow them to take me away! I will not be taken to that– that place!"

Alice frowns, perplexed. She sends a sidelong glance Percy's way, but the redhead can only do his best to shrug. He comes over– without a weapon, he would have been a hazard in the fight– to stand behind Alice protectively. The Bandersnatch resumes its smaller size with a questioning meow and trots over to paw at Percy's legs.

"Mother," Draco says sadly, shaking his head, "What did you think would happen, when you decided to kidnap a Wizard off of the street while wearing full Death Eater regalia? I'm afraid that not even my contacts will be able to keep you safe from the law."

"Not for that, foolish child!" Narcissa spits. "Because of him!" Her murderous eyes find Percy. "He is the one who told them– he is the one who has led them here–"

"Perhaps you have confused me with some other Wizard?" Percy offers innocently. Narcissa isn't fooled. He must know, of course.

"Mother, please, you need your rest–" Draco tries to calm her, but Narcissa will have none of it.

"He has to be silenced!" she cries, looking from one confused face to the next. No-one in the room knows what she is talking about, and it shows. "He can't be allowed to tell anyone else! I won't be taken away! I won't be arrested!"

"Narcissa," Lucius says, his rough voice low in warning, "What have you done?"

She looks over at her husband in surprise, and it is her undoing. Narcissa Malfoy sighs and slumps to the ground, no longer fighting against Alice's hold. "It was during the Final Battle," she begins. "In the Great Hall at Hogwarts. I was– hiding, mostly. Then I saw her. That Weasley woman, fighting my sister. I may not have agreed with her, but she was my sister, and I loved her. I shot a curse at that witch's back."

Surprised glances are exchanged among the other occupants of the room. "You tried to kill my mother?" Percy's voice is honestly shocked.

"No, you fool," Narcissa hisses. "I tried to Stun her so she wouldn't kill my sister. But something went wrong. My stunner collided with another spell– something purple, I think– and they veered off course. They hit Mister Weasley here, and sent him into that coma."

She looks up at Draco pleadingly. "I thought he'd never wake up. He'd never be able to tell anyone that it was me. We'd be safe. We'd be a proper family, without the Dark Lord looking over our shoulders at every moment. But then..."

"Then I woke up," Percy finishes for her, "And you thought I'd tell the Aurors that it was you."

"Didn't you?" Narcissa asks him bitterly.

"Your spell didn't hit me intentionally," Percy shrugs. "And in case you didn't realize, it also hit me in the back. I never saw anything. One minute I was fighting, and the next minute I was waking up somewhere completely different. I never knew it was you; there was no way I could have told the Aurors anything."

Narcissa can do nothing but stare. "You... saw nothing?"

Percy nods.

"You never notified the Aurors? No-one is coming to arrest me?"

"Well, I'm not so sure about that part," Alice interrupts. "After all, you did kidnap and imprison a Wizard in broad daylight. I was able to track Percy's location to this domicile, and I know that the Aurors were about an hour behind."

Narcissa is stricken with emotion. For two years, she's been living with the constant fear of being arrested. Every moment in public, she has waited for the Aurors to show up without warning and take her away; whenever she has tried to sleep, she has instead stayed up with the heavy dread on her mind. And when everything became too much, she resorted to kidnapping, to get the truth from the person she thought responsible–

Then Alice's eyes soften. She looks over at Percy, and Percy looks back with an equally smitten expression. There is some sort of unspoken communication going on, and when Alice turns back to Narcissa she is smiling.

"We have only perhaps ten minutes," she says authoritatively, stepping backwards and releasing her hold on Narcissa. Dazed, Narcissa stumbles, and Alice steadies her. "Let's make this look good."

* * *

"Remember that this is a very delicate situation," Head Auror Corner lectures the assembled red-robed crowd. "We have a kidnapped Wizard in unknown condition and three possibly-hostile suspects. Take no chances! Stay with your partner and don't take stupid risks. Take hold of your Portkeys and listen for the count-down!"

Michael Corner turned to Harry as the Aurors moved into formation. "I hope your information on this is good, because otherwise it's going to be my head on the chopping block." He ran a hand through greying brown hair. "Storming Malfoy Manor... this is a political nightmare."

"They should have considered that before kidnapping my brother," Ginny grouses from by Harry's side. Her wand is in her hand, at the ready; her fingers tighten around it in anger. "When do we depart?"

"Momentarily," Head Auror Corner says grimly to her. Then, louder, "Count-down! Five! Four! Three!"

Ginny glances over at her husband, and sees that he is looking at her. Their eyes meet, and Harry smiles at her faintly, reassuringly, even as his eyes are businesslike and emotionless. Their grips on their Portkeys tighten.

"Two! One!"

Ginny winds a hand into the fabric of her skirt and pulls it tightly against her legs, and not a moment too soon. The ground drops from beneath her feet; she is flying, spinning through the air. A kaleidoscope of colors whirls around her, and she counts her breaths, focuses on the bright pulse of her Magic within her to keep her balance and her lunch intact.

When she lands, it is gracefully and with nary a thump. She brushes out her skirts with a graceful hand and smirks at Harry, who has never managed to get the hang of Portkeys. Her husband catches her eye as he stands gracelessly, and they share a brief moment of humor.

It fades as they look around.

She never had cause to go to Malfoy Manor, even during the War, but Harry did, and she can see the pain of his memories as his eyes trace the pristine white of the Manor and its grounds. There is no sign of Alice; Ginny doesn't know whether that is a positive sign or a negative one.

"Everyone in formation!" Corner barks, and the red-robed Aurors rearrange themselves into rank and file. "Forward! March!"

They go up to the front door, and there is no resistance.

Corner looks frustrated. "They know we're here, I know they know. They have surveillance spells on the grounds; they know whenever anyone arrives. Someone should come out and meet us."

The silence seems almost ominous.

The loud pop of a House Elf's teleportation is almost deafening; the little creature has to duck some spells shot off by trigger-happy Aurors, and it cringes and wrings its hands miserably.

"Where is your Master, Elf?" Corner demands imperiously.

The green-skinned Elf whimpers slightly. "Masters and the Alice is being in the gardens, they is inviting you to join them."

Ginny's grip on her wand tightens, and she reaches out with her left hand to take Harry's arm. They walk in silence, the only noise the swish of their robes and the heavy thumps of the Aurors' boots.

Corner leads them into Malfoy Manor. He follows the cringing House Elf through the opulent halls, past rooms filled with glittering finery and decadent decorations. When they turn a corner and see a glint of fresh greenery it is all Ginny can do not to shout out her frustrations.

Percy is here, somewhere, so close by– and why are they walking so slowly?

Her heart is pounding in her ears. She can barely feel Harry's arm under her fingertips, though from the concerned glances he's been sending her, her grip is not entirely gentle. She feels every pulse of the blood through her veins. Just a few more steps and they'll find–

"What is the meaning of this?"

–they'll find Percy.

"Thank Merlin you're alright!" Ginny gasps, releasing Harry and flinging herself forward into her brother's arms. Percy has to stand quickly in order to catch her, and in the process he sends the delicate wicker chair flying. "I was so worried!"

"There, now," Percy eases her into a nearby chair and pours her a cup of tea. He Summons his chair to him idly and sits back down elegantly. "I'm perfectly well, as you can see. Just a bit of a misunderstanding, really. I apologize for any worry you've felt on my behalf."

Ginny sputters. "Misunderstanding? You were kidnapped!"

But she has a sinking feeling in her stomach as she looks around. The Aurors look uncomfortable and fidgety; Corner looks as though he would like nothing better than to sink into the pristine white flagstones of the private courtyard. Harry is watching the proceedings with narrowed eyes, and the Malfoys–

"Whatever do you mean?" Percy inquires calmly as he sips tea from an intricate little cup. "Our dear friends the Malfoys merely invited us to their domicile for an impromptu celebration."

The Malfoys, Percy, and a smug-looking Alice are sitting around a table and enjoying what for all intents and purposes appears to be a lovely little tea party.

"Celebration," Harry repeats drily, running a hand through messy black hair. "And of course your dear friends thought it necessary to publicly kidnap you whilst wearing Death Eater masks and costumes?"

"All in the spirit of good fun," Alice beams.

"...of course." Harry sighs.

One of the Aurors- a fresh-faced red-robed trainee- gasps loudly and points in Alice's direction. "Great Merlin! What manner of sword is that?"

Alice's grin widens, showing teeth; her expression is subtly shark-like. The silvery sword at her belt is glimmering blue-white in the mid-afternoon sunshine; light glints from the colorless gems studding the hilt. But it is Percy who answers, "The best, of course. Only the best for my Alice."

Narcissa coughs into a hand. It sounds suspiciously like she is trying to smother a laugh.

"Of course, I understand how such an occurrence could be... misconstrued, shall we say," Lucius Malfoy says silkily. "And I am prepared to forgive this invasion of my home and privacy, as long as certain conditions are met..."

Corner grumbles something at Harry that Ginny thinks might have been something along the lines of "All your fault."

* * *

Harry has never liked to see Molly Weasley cry. He saw it far too often in the days following the War, after all, and she is too much like a mother to him for the sight of her tears to do anything but cut him to the quick.

Now, though, as she sobs joyfully into Percy's shoulder as the golden-eyed Wizard pats her back comfortingly, he thinks everything might be all right after all.

Alice steps forward, but Harry claps a hand onto her shoulder and doesn't let go. She turns to look at him, frowning, but he doesn't let go. He's not about to let her join the happy Weasley celebration until he has some answers, and with that in mind he pulls her through the corridors of the Burrow and into Arthur's office. Ginny follows on their heels, silently.

"I believe we are overdue for a conversation, Miss Kingsleigh," he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes,"Alice says, biting her lip in thought before continuing, "there is the matter of a certain feeling of... connection that the two of us share."

Harry nods, and says, "I suppose it has something to do with our weapons. You have a most distinctive sword, Miss Kinsleigh, one that is rather legendary."

Alice's hand reaches down to brush the sword buckled to her waist with gentle fingers. "The Vorpal Sword, yes. I believe it is considered to be a children's tale in this world."

Ginny mouths 'in this world' to herself incredulously. Harry ignores his wife in favor of agreeing with Alice. "I, too, bear several artifacts that are believed to be but myth. The Elder Wand, the Cloak of Invisibility, and the Resurrection Stone... with these weapons, I am the Master of Death," Harry says gravely. He waits for the denial, for the horror. The suspicion.

It never comes. Alice just nods like it should be obvious. "We're champions," she says again, and this time Harry listens.

"This is not the first time you have said something along those lines. Champions of what?"

"I am the White Queen's champion," Alice explains. "I slew the Red Queen's champion two years ago. You are the Black Queen's champion."

"Miss Kingsleigh, please, you are speaking in riddles. Red Queen? White Queen? Black Queen?" Ginny asks, mystified. "Who is the Black Queen?"

"Magic Herself," Luna is the one to step into the conversation now. Harry and Ginny both start with shock; neither had realized she was in the room. Alice merely watches with a smile. "When She chose you to wield her weapons, you became her champion."

"But..." Harry begins to protest, but his voice dies as he realizes that Luna's eyes are glowing with black light.

It's with a slight shock that Harry realizes that the lithe blonde witch hasn't really changed at all. Ever since she came back from that Snorkack-hunting expedition in the Swiss Alps ten years ago, she hasn't aged, hasn't changed. She looks Percy's age, but Percy has a freakish magical coma to explain his lack of development.

Luna... Luna is standing in the same position she was in a minute ago, but there is a tangible aura of power around her. Her eyes are a shining black that seem to suck in the light around them.

"Luna?" Ginny gasps.

Luna merely smiles at them benevolently.

"..., my children," she says to them in a voice that echoes and reverberates through the room. "There is so much more to this universe than any of you can comprehend. I was one of the lucky few who received a chance; the Alice is another."

"You're not Luna," Ginny says, stunned.

"I was once Luna, and now I am so much more than Luna ever was. My eyes have been opened; I have seen the Black Queen herself and she has called me away..." She smiled joyously. "And now that my work here is done, I am free to return to her side once more."

"Your work?" Harry asks.

"There are some who can slip between worlds with ease, like the young Alice, but others, once trapped in one world, find it difficult to escape... the Hatter was unhappy, and so was the Alice, and my Queen's sister asked me to aid the two... and now that the two of you have found each other, you have no need of my assistance."

Alice is smiling. "I see," she says, and hugs Luna spontaneously. "Tell your Queen to say thank you to Queen Mirana for me."

And Luna's form is glowing brighter and brighter; not only her eyes, but her entire body. Her blonde hair flutters in a wind that none of the other Witches and Wizards in the room can see or feel. She is smiling, and her expression is serene.

"Alice?" a voice calls, and the moment is broken. Luna's form explodes into a million dazzling motes of impossible black light, and by the time Harry is finished blinking the spots from his eyes, Luna is gone and Percy is entering the room.

"Mother wants to hear about our rescue," he says to Alice with a fond smile. The blonde Muggle woman takes his arm and together they leave the room.

Harry is still staring at the spot where Luna had been standing. Ginny's eyes are dark as she struggles to make sense of what just happened; then, she smiles.

"I told you so," Ginny declares victoriously. "From the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew there was something different about her."

Harry raises his left eyebrow. "You were aware this entire time that she was a mystical Champion from another world?" he asks skeptically.

"Well, no," Ginny admits, "But you must concede that I was indeed correct to assert that she is odd!"

Harry considers it. "I suppose I could concede the point."

"My husband, the ungraceful loser," Ginny mocks, not unkindly. Then her eyes narrow, and her smile fades. "And the liar, apparently. I believe Luna was to escort Alice to the Burrow? Is that not what you told me?"

Harry loves his wife, but sometimes she scares him. And the illusion spell she uses to make her red hair appear as though it is on fire is nothing short of terrifying.

"Well?" Ginny raises her wand, her eyes glowing red in illusory reflected firelight. "Would you care to explain, _dear_?"

* * *

It is three days later, in the midst of their celebratory dinner in a posh Wizarding restaurant just off of Diagon Alley, that Alice makes the announcement: she has asked Percy to marry her, and he has accepted.

There is a brief moment of silence because Alice is a Muggle, and Molly Weasley is mostly sure that Muggle traditions in these sorts of occasions is radically different, but that moment passes and the flurry of congratulations, well-wishes and wedding preparations begins.

Molly only begins to worry when her son interrupts her while she is making arrangements for Alice at the Burrow, and tells her that they will not be necessary.

"China?" Molly repeats, baffled. She scans her wayward son's face with nervous eyes for signs that he has lost whatever sanity he had left. But his odd golden eyes are calm, his mouth smiling. His hair is as wild and untamed as ever, but that is a reminder that her strict, rule-following Percy has been forever altered, and perhaps she should not be so surprised at his actions.

"Whyever China?" she asks again, because he has not given her an answer. "What could possibly await you in China, Percy dearest, that you could not find closer to home?"

Her son smiled down at her fondly. "Alice has business dealings in China that she must oversee personally, and I have accepted her invitation to accompany her on this trip." He catches sight of Molly's worry-lined face, and softens further. "I love her, Mother, and I would follow her to the ends of this earth, and beyond if needed."

"But, Percy, darling, what are you going to _do_?" Molly frets. "Surely you do not intend to be a– a _kept Wizard_?"

"Mother, I am a Hatter," Percy reassured her. "I make hats. I hat. There is no need to worry. I will have my profession to sustain me." A mischievous grin crosses his face. "And, of course, I will have Alice to protect me."

It isn't what she expected of Percy. A Ministry job, perhaps, or a career doing something sufficiently tediously studious, perhaps a soft-spoken wife and a few well-behaved and obedient children. Instead she has a wild-eyed young man who speaks in riddles and who is engaged to the most stubborn, irrational young woman she has ever met.

Then Molly smiles up at her son, and reaches out. He meets her halfway, and she folds him into her arms.

Percy will find his own path in life; it has always been his way. Perhaps that path is not the one she would have chosen for him, but she can trust him in this, to know his own heart. And Alice will keep him focused, she knows.

"You have my blessing, you and Alice both," she tells Percy sternly, and her son smiles at her in unbridled delight. "Now shoo! I've dinner to prepare."

It isn't easy, letting him make his own mistakes.

But as she stands at the docks, waving at the newlyweds as they board the ship that will carry them so terribly far away from her, she is smiling.

* * *

End Note: Ready the champagne and the ticker-tape parades! That's right: there is an epilogue left, and then the story is complete!


	7. Epilogue

**Disclaimer**: I am not, not have I ever been, the owner of anything but the things that have belonged to me.

* * *

**Author's Note**: When I first began this story, I thought it would take me a month or two at the most. Instead I have found myself writing it for over a year, struggling with characters whose actions had been decided far in advance and yet who were resisting my every effort to write them. I owe a great deal to everyone who supported and encouraged me along the way; without your kind reviews, I might have abandoned this story long ago. So thank you to all who've followed this sorry, poorly-written tale! Thank you for your patience, your kindness, and your generosity! I hope you've enjoyed the journey as much as I have.

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Epilogue

* * *

He wakes slowly. The cabin is shrouded in shadows, but the covers over the portholes are imperfect and let some stray beams of daylight in.

Percy has grown used to the swaying of the ship in the weeks since they first set sail from England for China. He has become accustomed to keeping his balance while the deck rolls underfoot, and to drifting along to sleep despite the unsteady berth.

He doesn't think he'll ever be able to become accustomed to the heat of Alice's body against his side, and the weight of her head on his chest.

Something so precious should never be taken for granted, after all.

But the faintest clash of steel-on-steel draws him from his lazy musings. Alice's golden head lifts first, her eyes blinking sleepily. "Hatter?" she murmurs, still half-asleep. "Have we company?"

The ship rolls, turns sharply, and the metallic clash is both louder and more ominous the second time. "All hands, to the deck!" comes the faint yell, audible even in their secluded cabin. "Pirates!"

"So it would seem," Percy slides from the warm bed and begins to pull on his clothes. "It was terribly rude of them to plan a party without issuing proper invitations."

Alice is smiling at him as she does the same. "We should show them the error of their ways."

"They do seem to be lacking in knowledge of proper etiquette," Percy buckles his wand holster onto his wrist. He hands Alice her Vorpal Sword, and Alice takes advantage of the motion by grabbing onto his hand and pulling him close to her for a kiss, full of warmth and promise.

"I love you," she murmurs, and he doesn't even try to restrain the wild grin that lights his face.

"Shall we, my dear?"

Alice's grin is wide and toothy, her eyes bright with muchness and life. "We shall."

Together, they step out into the sunshine.

* * *

**THE END**


End file.
